Missing Moments - Blindspot Season Two
by Indelible Evidence
Summary: A collection of episode tags and canon-fixes for season two of Blindspot. Each chapter is a new fic, and none of these fics will be getting a continuing second chapter. Most, if not all, entries here will be Jeller.
1. All In (Jeller, 2x18, M-rated)

****Author's Note: ****This fanfic will be a collection of **one-chapter** fics set in **season two**. None of them will be getting a second chapter, and each one stands alone from the others.

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**All In**

Jeller, set around 2x18 (after the Borden showdown and Jane's breakup with Oliver, but before the polygraph episode and its near-kiss). Diverges from canon to get Jeller together a little early. Kind of a weird hybrid of humour, angst and smut. M-rated.

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"You guys are the greatest," Patterson proclaimed, affectionately laying her head on Tasha's shoulder.

They were three quarters of the way through a girls' night at their favourite bar, and Jane, Zapata and Patterson were a little past tipsy, but not drunk enough that the room was spinning. As the bartender brought their next round, the sound system switched to a new tune.

"Oh, hey, it's this song," Jane said, putting down her glass. "The one Kurt always turns off the radio in the car."

Patterson and Zapata blinked at her.

"Wait, he does?" Patterson asked, leaning forward.

Beside her, Tasha snickered against the rim of her glass before taking a sip.

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever actually heard more than the first couple of lines. He always switches stations. I figure it must be one of those songs that reminds him of a bad breakup, or something."

"I…don't think that's why he switches stations," Zapata said, grinning.

"Huh? Why not?" Something about their reactions made Jane guess she was in unexpected territory, but she had no idea just how right she was until a few seconds later.

Tasha and Patterson exchanged an amused glance just as the music built towards the chorus. Then, together and a little off-key, they sang along.

"I don't want anybody else! When I think about you, I touch myself!"

Jane stared at them, completely stunned, as they both erupted into giggles. Then she covered her eyes with her hand. "Oh, my god."

"He wants you so bad," Zapata said, shaking her head.

"He does," Patterson agreed.

Jane frowned at them. "No, he doesn't. He already told me it was too complicated to get into a relationship with me, and that was _before_ we found out about Sandstorm. We're just friends."

"Jane, you are so clueless," Zapata said. "Didn't you see how he got when you were dating Oliver? He didn't realise how much he still wanted you until you were unavailable, and he was kicking himself for not speaking up sooner."

Jane's face grew hotter than the surface of the sun. "No—he said he was glad I was happy."

"What did you say to him when you found out he was dating Allie again?" Patterson asked.

Jane opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"There you go," Patterson said.

"But I'm single now," Jane protested. "And he hasn't said anything."

"Not yet," Tasha said. "Jane, we knew he was into you from day one. Or at least day three or four. That's not even taking the song into account."

"That's not the only sexy song on the radio," Jane argued. "If it was that big a deal, he'd be switching over half the songs."

Patterson rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. The DiVinyls song is like…an anthem for female fantasy and masturbation. Men aren't used to hearing women admit that they do it, so songs like that really get their attention."

"He's trying not to think about you…thinking about _him_...and...you know." Zapata played with the straw in her drink, a wicked look in her eyes.

Jane held up her hand, mortified. "Okay, can we change the subject, please? Or can I get you guys drunk enough that you won't remember this tomorrow?"

"She's totally guilty," Patterson stage-whispered to Zapata.

"Obviously," Tasha murmured back.

"Even if he doesn't want to think about…that…" Jane added, "maybe that's just because intimate sexual thoughts about co-workers make him uncomfortable."

"Yeah, uncomfortable in his pants," Patterson muttered into her drink.

Tasha almost spat out her drink, torn between laughter and dismay. "Okay, let's leave _that_ thought for Jane to fantasise about later. Weller is like my brother. I don't need that image."

Jane sighed, trying to rationalise things and not get swept up in their craziness. "You guys are way off base. Anyway, even if you're right, it doesn't even have to be me he's thinking about. Maybe the song reminds him of some old girlfriend who hurt him."

"Oh, for the love of god, Jane. How dense can you possibly be?"

Caught off-guard by the sudden irritation in Patterson's tone, Jane put down her drink, exchanging startled glances with Zapata.

"Patterson—" Tasha started.

Patterson wouldn't be deterred. "You and Weller need to just break out of this stupid holding pattern, already. You have something that's real and true, and even if it's a little bit complicated, you love each other, and you'd die for each other. Nothing bad is gonna happen if you admit it, okay? Just get it over with."

Tears in her eyes, the scientist downed the rest of her drink in one breath, while Jane tried to process both the advice and the angry way it had been delivered.

She couldn't deal with both at once, so she chose the more immediate problem first. "Why are you mad at me, Patterson?"

A tear trickled down Patterson's cheek before she hid her face in her hands, and Zapata put a hand on her back to comfort her, her mouth silently forming a message to Jane. _Borden issues._

Jane nodded, trying to put her own hurt feelings aside. She and Tasha had dragged Patterson out here tonight in the hopes of pulling their friend from her depression. After what her ex had done to her—shooting her in the stomach, kidnapping her, standing by while Shepherd tortured her, then implanting a bug in her tooth so that Sandstorm knew everything Patterson told them—she deserved all the compassion and understanding in the world, even if she was taking out her own pain on Jane right then.

"I'm sorry, Jane," Patterson sobbed. "I just… After everything that happened with David, I finally thought I could be happy with Robert. _Nigel._ God, I didn't even know my own boyfriend's name. And then… And then…" She gave up trying to express herself and just cried, leaning into Zapata's comforting embrace.

"It's okay, Patterson." Jane took her hand across the table, trying to offer some comfort. "I get it."

After a few more moments, Patterson started to collect herself, taking the paper napkin from the table to dry her eyes and blow her nose. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you. It's none of my business. I'm just bitter because I want the kind of love you guys have."

Tasha sighed. "I wouldn't have said it, Jane, but the girl's got a point. Weller is a solid guy, and it's obvious you two love each other. It seems a little pointless that you keep dancing around it like this when you could be happy together."

Jane tried not to get defensive, or to tell her friends to mind their own damn business. She wasn't the gossiping type to begin with, and the way she felt about Kurt was so strong—the idea of discussing it with anyone else made her anxious. But Patterson and Zapata were both concerned about her—it seemed ungrateful not to hear them out, at least.

"Any other thoughts you guys want to get off your chest before we never talk about this again?" she asked, managing to keep the bite out of her voice—almost.

After a quick glance at Patterson, Tasha leaned forward. "I know you two have your issues, but I've _never_ seen Weller look at another woman the way he looks at you. Not Allie, not Nas, not the woman he was seeing back when I first joined his team… Jane, you have nothing to lose by telling him how you feel. When it comes to you, he's all in."

Jane couldn't let herself believe that. She just couldn't.

"If he's all in, why hasn't he asked me out? If I'm so important to him, why does he have a baby on the way with another woman, and why did he start dating Nas five seconds after I came back?" Inwardly, she cringed at the harshness to her tone, but she couldn't help it.

Patterson shook her head sadly. "Because the Taylor Shaw thing messed with his head. Just like Remi and Shepherd wanted it to."

_You know who else's head was messed up by the Taylor Shaw thing? Mine. Especially when he looked at me like I was a criminal the day after he kissed me. _

_Oh, and that's another thing—I _am_ a criminal. A terrorist. And if I don't jump whenever the FBI tells me to, I could end up back in a black site. So don't you _dare_ tell me I'm being dense for not holding out my heart to get ripped to pieces again. If he wants me, he's gonna have to say so, because I can't go through that again. I'm not strong enough to come back from it a second time._

Jane wanted to say the words, to vent the caged frustration in her chest, but she couldn't. It was too personal. They already knew too much of her, from her tattooed skin to her terrorist origins. Some things, she had to keep to herself.

"Anything else?" she asked, prodding at a piece of ice at the bottom of her glass with her straw.

"No, I'm done," Patterson said softly.

"Me too," Zapata murmured.

"Okay. I know you guys are just trying to help, but I don't want to talk about it. So how do we make things not awkward again?"

"More alcohol?" Patterson suggested, giving her a wan smile.

"More alcohol it is." Tasha found her wallet and headed to the bar.

* * *

With the help of a couple more drinks, they managed to salvage the rest of the evening, their conversation a little forced at first, but becoming more natural after a while. At the end of the evening, they went their separate ways. Zapata walked home, and Patterson shared Jane's cab, jumping out when it stopped by her place on the way to the safehouse.

Alone with her thoughts, Jane finally had time to think through everything that had been said that night. She'd already made peace with the fact that she and Kurt would never be together, but now her friends had come along and bulldozed a hole in the wall she'd tried to build between herself and her feelings for him.

They meant well, but Jane couldn't help but wish the whole conversation hadn't happened. Patterson and Zapata hadn't seen everything that had ever transpired between her and Kurt. They couldn't know how tangled up everything was, and she didn't want to drag out all the gory details so that they understood.

They were wrong about Kurt, but they were still the best friends she could hope for, and she was so grateful to have their forgiveness after they'd found out the truth about her past.

_You love each other, and you'd die for each other._

_When it comes to you, he's all in._

_He wants you so bad._

_He's trying not to think about you…thinking about him…and…you know."_

The best friends she could hope for—even if she sometimes wanted to kill them.

As she left the taxi and headed across the street to her safehouse, she realised she was humming along to the chorus now stuck in her head. _I don't want anybody else…_

That part was true. More than just that part, though she only let him into her fantasies when she was close to the edge—flashes of his smile, or his voice, or his kiss. Remembered moments to tip her into ecstasy. She refused to build up a whole sexy narrative where he played a featuring role from the moment she dipped her fingers between her thighs. That was just setting herself up for heartbreak.

Her mood had taken a dive again since Patterson had wished her goodnight, and Jane just wanted to get into bed and sleep it off. She kicked off her socks and shoes, scrubbed off her makeup and brushed her teeth. She was just about to shut off the living room lights, strip down and crawl into bed when a knock at her apartment door made her frown.

_It has to be past midnight by now. Who'd be here at this hour? Did one of the neighbours lock themselves out and need to call someone? Or is it Sandstorm?_

She headed through the living room to the door, glancing at her weapon on the side table to make sure it was there if she needed it, then cracked open the door.

"Kurt?" Confused, she dropped her guard and opened the door wider, stepping back to let him in. "What are you doing here?"

He looked just as confused as she was, and more than a little concerned. "I got a text from Patterson, asking me to head over here because you needed me. You okay?"

_I will kill her with my bare hands._

Jane stared at him, unable to figure out a way to answer him without inviting more questions about why Patterson would ask him to come over. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. She didn't tell me she was gonna do that. She didn't wake you, did she?"

He shook his head. "I was still up. Had a couple of beers, though, so I walked over. Jane, what's going on? What do you need?"

_Damn you, Patterson. What can I say that doesn't sound so trivial that it'll piss him off?_

Her alcohol-fogged mind could only come up with one solution to this problem. If she was honest, she could think of two—but she'd already tried ambushing him with a kiss, and that had led to nothing but hope followed by pain. Option two was out of the question.

"Patterson…thinks we need to hook up."

Whatever he'd thought she was about to say, that obviously hadn't even been in the ballpark. His eyebrows shot up as his brain tried to switch tracks. "Okay…" he said noncommittally.

"I told her it was none of her business, but apparently, she disagrees." Jane rubbed her forehead, stressed. "I'm sorry she made you worried enough to come all this way out here."

_There. If he's 'all in' like they think he is, this is his opportunity to speak up. But he won't, and on Monday, I will kill them both—_

Her train of thought derailed abruptly as he shrugged and smiled. "Don't suppose you have any beer in the fridge?"

As it happened, Jane did. Somehow, she managed not to stammer like an idiot while she offered him a seat and got them both a drink. They sat side by side on the couch, Kurt leaning back against the cushions, relaxed, and Jane sitting slightly hunched over her lap, spinning her beer bottle in her fingers.

"Jane, relax." Kurt took a sip of his beer, watching her. "Would you rather I left?"

"No! No, I—" Jane sighed. "I'm just mad at Patterson."

"For trying to get into our business?"

She couldn't tell what he was feeling, and it was driving her crazy. How could she take her cue from him if he wouldn't give her any cues?

"She thinks she knows how things are between us, but she doesn't."

"Sometimes _I_ barely know how things are between us," Kurt said wryly.

"No kidding," Jane muttered, and took a gulp of her beer. "I know she means well, but—"

"Jane." He reached out and took her hand, startling her into looking at him. It felt as though the whole world held its breath alongside her as she waited for his next words. "I know things with us haven't been easy, but…if I asked you if we could try again, what would you think about that?"

Stunned, she stared at his expression, seeing the mingled fear and hope she felt reflected in his face. "Kurt…"

He waited, but she was speechless. After a couple of seconds, he sat forward, placing his beer on the end table before gently pulling her bottle from her grasp. Once his hands were free, he took both of hers. The moment became more intense the longer it stretched out.

"Jane? I was kind of…hoping for an answer."

She closed her eyes and admitted, "I want to say yes, but…a-after what happened last time you kissed me… I guess I'm scared."

He didn't say anything, but his grasp on her hands remained firm and comforting. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze caught hers, and the way he was looking at her…

_I've never seen Weller look at another woman the way he looks at you, _Zapata said in her mind.

"I'm scared, too. But I think you're worth it. That _we_ could be worth it."

Still tongue-tied, Jane could only think of one way to convey her answer. Her heart pounding, she leaned in closer, her focus narrowing to the way his breath caught, the tiny hesitation between them before their lips brushed, then collided.

His low, relieved groan sent a shiver of arousal through her as she pressed closer, still half unable to believe this was happening. Kurt wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, his tongue flirting with hers as the kiss deepened. With every second that passed, the heat of his body and his kiss drained away a little more of her fear, and as she pulled back she finally allowed herself to admit it.

_I love you._

"I love you," he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers.

Had she said it out loud without meaning to? No—when she didn't respond his guard came up, just a little. He'd laid out his feelings without knowing for sure if she'd return them, and that meant the world to her.

_I guess they were right. He's all in._

"I love you too, Kurt."

He gave her that crooked smile she could never get enough of—one side of his mouth always lower than the other, but in a way that made him even more handsome. "You sure? For a moment there, I thought—"

"I didn't expect you to say it."

"I wasn't planning to. But it's true."

For a while, time blurred as they kissed, their hands hardly wandering as they adjusted to the change between them. Inevitably, things began to heat up, and not long after they'd hit second base Kurt pulled back, sliding his hand up from Jane's breast to her shoulder.

"As much as I want to stay… I think we should stop here for tonight."

Jane frowned at him. "Why?"

"Because we've both had too much to drink, and I don't want you to regret going too far, too fast."

She shook her head, smiling. "There's no such thing as too far with you. You should stay the night."

Kurt groaned. "I know we've been wanting to do this for a while, but—"

"Please don't go," she said, letting him see how unsettled she felt at the thought. "It feels like if you leave now, something else will happen to keep us apart."

He closed his eyes, and she sensed him giving in. "Okay. But if you change your mind and you want to just sleep—"

Jane didn't even bother to answer that, kissing away the rest of his words with gratitude and relief that soon dissolved back into lust.

Long, hedonistic minutes of making out later, Jane pulled Kurt to his feet and led him towards the bedroom. Grinning, Kurt lifted her off the floor and carried her the remaining distance.

The rest of the night became a haze of exploring hands and wandering lips, their bodies arching and surging as their sighs became moans, their moans ecstatic cries.

In a lull between bouts of lovemaking, Jane told him, "I finally heard that song you keep turning off the radio, when we were in the bar tonight."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

Jane hummed a few notes, and he rolled them over and pinned her down, nuzzling her neck. "I have a confession to make. I don't want anybody else."

Jane laughed. "Really? Is that the whole confession, or was there some more after that?"

He grinned up at her between kisses over her collar bones. "There might have been a few inappropriate thoughts here and there at…certain times."

"Mmm…" Jane closed her eyes, unable to keep herself from wriggling against him at the thought. "Me too."

He groaned as she reached down between them to guide him inside her again. "We should talk more about that sometime."

"We should. You could give me a demonstration," she suggested, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"I will if you will," he told her, right before his lips came down on hers in a hungry kiss.

That was the last thing either of them said for a while.

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**Author's Note: **In case anyone is mystified about the song referred to in this fic, it's _I Touch Myself_ by The DiVinyls. ;) And no, I really don't plan a second chapter for this one, sorry!


	2. Waiting to Land (Jeller, 2x12)

**Waiting to Land**

Jeller, tag to 2x12, beginning with a few lines of dialogue from the last scene of the episode.

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**Author's Note: **I wanted to write a smutty tag to 2x12, but then it became too angsty for smut, so I'm posting the angsty version and will attempt to get back on track with the smutty version later!

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Watching Jane shrug off her leather jacket, Kurt tightened his grip on the beers she'd brought over, wondering if this week could possibly get any more confusing. He'd had a major sting op go south; taken a couple of bullets to the vest; found out Allie was moving to Colorado, taking the child they'd decided to raise together with her…and a few hours ago, Nas had chosen to end their relationship.

And now, out of the blue, Jane Doe had shown up at his apartment with his favourite brand of beer, offering support for what he was going through.

Kurt didn't even know what to make of that. She couldn't possibly know that Nas had ended things between them, since Nas was the secretive type.

Still, he was thankful that Jane was here. She was a welcome distraction from all the baby worries and case stress circling his brain.

Weirdly enough, his mind was relatively quiet on the subject of Nas. He'd miss the sex, sure. And the company in the evenings. Nas was a beautiful woman and an interesting conversationalist, he wouldn't deny that. But the longer their relationship had stretched out, the less sure he'd been about it—and he hadn't been sure about it to begin with. Having her put an end to it was kind of a relief.

_But if you felt that way, why wouldn't you put an end to it yourself? _

Yeah, he knew the answer to that question. But he wasn't gonna let himself think about it. Especially not now, with Jane watching him put down the beers.

"Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

He hadn't even realised he'd flinched as he'd put down the bottles. The bruising from the impact of Roman's bullets against his vest had been painful for a few hours now.

"Just a bit sore from where your brother shot me." He punctuated his words with another, more theatrical flinch, exaggerating to make a joke out of the whole thing. He'd seen the fear and relief on her face when she'd returned from the Viper Kings' bar to report in. It had been obvious how bad she'd felt about Roman's initiative, even if it probably had been the only way to save his and Reade's lives.

As he'd intended, Jane laughed at his exaggerated performance instead of spiralling back into guilt. It was still a little strange to see her genuinely smiling again; she'd spent the first few months of the Sandstorm undercover operation swinging between serious and angry, and even the few brief moments of levity she'd participated in had been tinged with sadness. She still had the weight of the world on her shoulders—they both did. But she was learning to have fun again, slowly, and it warmed his heart to be a part of that.

"I'm not asking for you to put him back in the field again; I just—" She sighed, a little of the lightness fading from her face as worry for Roman crept back in. "Just let him outside once in a while. Or put him somewhere with a window."

Kurt had real misgivings about Roman, and what they decided to do with him in the long term would likely be hard for Jane to accept. But he would do what he could to help the guy in the short term—for Jane's sake. "Fine. I'll think about it."

Once they both had beers, they sat down on the couch. Kurt had been listening to a playlist before the knock on the door, had turned it down a little to answer, and the music was still playing softly. It filled the silence as they got comfortable on opposite ends of the couch.

"I'm so sorry about Allie," Jane said, her eyes sympathetic.

"Thank you."

If it had been someone else, he might have chafed at the perceived pity. With Jane, though, it had never felt like that. Maybe because she always had so much shit going on in her own life, yet she could always put it aside for a friend in need. She was just such a good listener, and god, he needed that right now.

She took a sip of her beer, quietly waiting for him to either run with the topic or change the subject. The fact that it involved his ex-girlfriend and unborn child didn't seem to bother her, though he'd noticed she'd crept out of his apartment during the baby shower without saying goodbye, a few weeks earlier.

Was he worried that it had bothered her, or worried that it no longer seemed to bother her?

He sighed and diverted his mind from that lane of thought, letting himself talk instead. "I guess I just had this image of how we were gonna do this, and factoring in a commute of one and a half thousand miles to see my kid was so far from what I had planned. I mean, how can I be there for her if we live so far apart?"

"You'll find a way. I know you will. I can't even imagine how horrible it feels, but it's pretty obvious you love your baby."

"I never thought it was possible to love something as much as I love her," he confessed, making Jane smile. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing he hadn't opened up quite so much. "And she's not even here yet. When I got that call from Sandstorm pretending to be Connor, telling me I needed come down and make decisions about what happened to the baby…"

"That's what the guy said?" Jane shook her head, and Kurt sensed the rage she was trying to suppress. "I knew they'd said Allie was in an accident, but I didn't know they'd been so brutal. I'm so sorry."

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how terrified he'd been—a fear more all-encompassing than any he'd felt on a case, where thousands of lives rested on the outcome of his actions. "I switched straight to work mode when I found out it wasn't true, went straight to the compound and started searching for survivors. I never really got to process the baby part of it until I saw Allie a couple of days later. Even now, it sort of feels like I jumped up in the air and I'm still…waiting to land."

Jane put her hand on his arm, silently comforting him, and he sighed. "At least when Allie moves to Colorado, she'll be taking a desk job. That'll help keep the baby safe. I just need to figure out a way to deal with it."

"You won't let anything get in the way of being there for her, even if it means Skype calls and flying out there for visits, right?"

He nodded, feeling almost on the verge of tears for a moment—and there was no way he'd had enough beer to justify that, even if he had just finished nursing a Scotch when Jane had arrived. "Yeah. We'll make it work. And Allie will be a great mom, that's pretty obvious. At least I won't have to worry she's mistreating the baby."

"Yeah. You three—or four, I guess, if you include Allie's boyfriend—you're gonna do just fine," Jane said.

He swallowed another 'thank you' before it made it to his lips. He'd already thanked Jane twice since she'd appeared on his doorstep—any more, and he'd sound like a broken record.

Jane smiled ruefully down at her beer. "On a selfish note, I'm glad you're not heading out there with them. I don't know how I'd get through the rest of this whole thing without you."

Grateful for an excuse to back away from his own problems for a while, Kurt turned a little further towards her in his seat. "You'd manage. You're resourceful, and you're strong. You'd find a way. But you don't have to. I'm gonna see this through with you."

"Thanks," she half whispered, glancing up, then immediately back down at her bottle.

Kurt thought back over the past few days, realising he'd been too distracted by his own problems to check in with her. "How're you holding up, after the whole Keaton thing? I know it was a shock, having him suddenly there like that."

"I'm okay," she said, shrugging.

Her body language was such a study in forced nonchalance that it made his heart contract in sympathy. He should have made time for her sooner.

"Jane."

When she looked up, he gave her a _come on, you're not fooling either of us_ look, and she responded with a quick, forced smile.

"Really, Kurt, I'm fine. I wouldn't be happy to work with him again, but the case is over now."

"I like to think I've gotten to know you pretty well over the time since we met. You telling me I haven't?" Maybe it was a low blow to insinuate that he was doubting his perception of her, but Jane was under so much stress, and shielding Roman from as much as she could on top of that. He didn't want her keeping it inside until she collapsed under the weight of it all, especially now their psychologist had turned out to be a mole.

Did she even talk to anyone else about her problems? She and the team seemed to get on fairly well these days, but Kurt doubted she felt confident enough in those friendships to vent about what was on her mind.

Jane sighed in response to his question. "You don't have to worry about me, really. I'm not really sleeping well, but things will settle down again. I just need to give it a little time, that's all."

"Of course I have to worry about you. You're a key member of my team. You're my field partner." And now he sounded as though he was insinuating he was worried she couldn't watch his back effectively in the field.

He doubled down, knowing he was still underrepresenting how he felt about her. "And you're my friend."

He reached for her hand and squeezed it, intending to let go as soon as he'd completed that gesture. Yet somehow, he couldn't bring himself to pull his hand back, not when Jane pressed her lips tightly together, turning her head as if that would stop him from seeing how much she was struggling.

"I care about you, Jane. So let me in."

She exhaled in a rush, not quite a sob, and he curled his fingers more tightly around hers, waiting.

"I've been…anxious," she admitted, not looking at him. "Since the undercover mission failed."

It wasn't a surprise to him. "You've been worrying about Roman, I know."

She started to nod, hesitated, then shook her head. "That's part of it, but it's not everything. I just…"

Again, she faltered, and again, Kurt cursed himself for being so wrapped up in his own damn issues. "It's okay. Just breathe."

She sank dejectedly into the couch cushion, seeming small and fragile. "I came here to be here for _you_, Kurt. I don't want to make this—"

"We're here for each other, Jane. It's an even trade." He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but something held him back. He wasn't even sure if it was for her benefit, or his.

Jane cleared her throat, straightened her posture a little. Getting herself together, the way he'd seen her do many times in the past. "I, uh… I failed my mission, and since then I've felt like my situation is…unstable. And then I saw Keaton again, and I just…"

As she trailed off again, he blinked at what she was implying. "Jane, you didn't fail your mission just because they made you. None of us saw the Borden thing coming. Sure, we've had to change course with the case, but these things happen. You're still helping us take down Sandstorm. We'd never send you back to the black site."

"I know _you_ wouldn't," she said, immediately striving to reassure him. "But Nas? Pellington? The moment I got back, the morning after the compound raid, Pellington's guys had me in cuffs. I was so afraid you were all dead, and they'd drag me back to a black site and I'd never know if any of you survived."

He'd known—he'd fucking _known_—that morning that she was shocked and distressed. But they had all been shocked and distressed by the lives lost, and by the way Sandstorm had gained the upper hand. Then Jane had told them Borden was the mole, and that she'd ZIPped her brother, and they'd had to deal with finding Roman and then Patterson, and after it was all over, all he'd wanted was to go home to sleep.

In the couple of weeks that had followed, his life had been a living nightmare of autopsy and CSU and life insurance reports, condolences for the families of the twelve dead agents he should have been leading, dealing with the shockwaves all the way up and down the chain of command… Most of SIOC had needed to be read in on the Sandstorm mission, Jane's origins and Borden's role had needed to be revealed, and agents brought in from other field offices to temporarily ease the caseload troubles caused by their unexpected lack of personnel.

And on a personal level, apart from the survivor's guilt, he'd had to attempt to figure out why Shepherd wanted him alive, and how it might factor into Sandstorm's plans.

He'd had so much to deal with that he'd only been able to concentrate on his core team's personal concerns when they'd been directly in his face. And Jane had suffered for it. He should have realised she'd be worried about her position with the Bureau now.

"I'm not gonna let them have you, Jane. And neither will Nas."

She gave him a small, bleak smile. "Maybe she won't. But my usefulness is limited now I've been made, right? If she doesn't rescind our deal once she thinks Roman can't be useful anymore, it'll be because you guys have a thing, not because she thinks I've earned my freedom."

Kurt went still, a little blindsided by her mentioning his relationship with Nas so openly. "I think you're underestimating her. She has a lot of respect for you."

Jane nodded, but didn't speak.

He might as well just get it over with. "And for the record, Nas broke things off with me today, so…"

She stared at him, taken aback. Then sympathy dawned in her eyes again, along with embarrassment that she'd brought it up. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

He gave a one-shouldered shrug and took another gulp of beer. "'S okay. I didn't see it coming, but it's a good thing, I think. Two heads of a taskforce dating each other…it leads to compromises where compromises shouldn't be made."

Jane nodded slowly. "Like letting my brother out in the field?"

"And using real HMX to draw out Shepherd."

"Still," she said cautiously, "on a personal level, it must hurt."

And this was a conversation he definitely didn't want to get into with Jane. "My ego is a little bruised. But not as bruised as my chest, so…don't worry about me. I'm good."

Jane returned his smile, and he could tell she was amused at how he'd brought things full circle, back to the start of their conversation. "At least there's beer, right?"

"Beer, and good friends who deliver it to your door, right when you need it." He drained his bottle. "What do you think of it, by the way?"

Jane was clearly more comfortable with this line of conversation. "Who knew they made such good beer in Pennsylvania?" She downed the rest of her own beer.

He held out his hand for her empty bottle. "Want another one?"

"Sounds good."

Kurt levered himself out of his seat, forgetting how the move would aggravate his bruises, and grunted with pain before he could stop himself.

"Are you sure you're okay? Did you even go to medical to get checked out?"

"What's to check?" he asked, setting down their empties on the counter and popping the caps on a couple of new bottles. "They're just bruises. They'll fade in a week or so."

"Unless the impact fractured a rib." She gave him an exasperated look as she joined him at the counter. "If you won't let me check, will you at least go to medical tomorrow and get them to examine you?"

He sighed, handing her a bottle. The idea of stripping off his shirt so she could run her hands all over his torso was too appealing for him to give in to, even with the pain he was in. "I promise to go to medical. Come on, sit back down."

She gave him a long, suspicious look, then gave in, returning to the couch with her drink. "Just think how guilty I'll feel if you have a fractured rib that you ignore, and it gets worse because of some kind of impact sustained in the field, and you end up with a punctured lung or something."

"I just promised, didn't I?" He sat down too, touched by her concern.

"_Really_ guilty, Kurt," she emphasised, and he couldn't help but grin.

She finally smiled back, and it reminded him how good at pretending to be okay she was sometimes. "So you're having trouble falling asleep?"

Jane shifted uncomfortably at the realisation that the focus was back on her. "Uh, not _falling_ asleep. I wake up a lot. Nightmares."

"The black site," he said, and now he was the one who felt guilty.

"Yeah. I was getting better, but after Pellington's guys put me in cuffs, and then he almost got Roman sent to a black site too…I guess things got on top of me again. And then with Keaton showing up so soon after, and how he just didn't seem to think what he'd done to me was wrong, I…"

"It was wrong," Kurt said, shaking his head. "He's a smug bastard who overstepped and doesn't want to admit it. And those sites should never have existed in the first place. Not for anyone, no matter how many crimes they've committed."

"I'm so scared for Roman. If he ends up in a black site, it'll be my fault, because I gave him the ZIP and told him it was safe to come with me." She sat back, a determined expression on her face. "If they try to take him, and there's no other option, I will go in his place."

"Jane…"

"If it comes to that, Kurt, I'm counting on you to get him admitted to a mental facility, the way Dr. Sun wants. He'll hate it there, but at least they won't be torturing him."

"It won't come to that," he said, refusing to even consider the possibility. The idea of Jane willingly going back to the place that had given her so many nightmares, hoping to spare her brother the same fate, was too heart-breaking.

And she wasn't exaggerating—he had no doubt about that.

"But if it _does_…" Jane insisted, and took his hand, holding it between both of hers. "Please, Kurt. I just need him to be safe. I don't think Dr. Sun is right. I don't think Roman is incapable of empathy or love, because whether or not he really loved Kat Jarrett, he really loves _me_. He couldn't shoot me when Shepherd told him to."

"Jane," he murmured, knowing he should say something, but too speechless at her intensity to come up with anything.

"But if I can't protect him because they've taken me away, and considering Dr. Sun right is the only way to save him from a black site, Kurt, I am _begging_ you to get him admitted somewhere the CIA can't touch him."

"I'll do everything I can. I swear." And he meant it. For this woman, he'd move mountains, or die trying.

"Thank you," she told him, tears in her eyes.

"But it's not gonna come to that, Jane. We're gonna get through this case, and you'll get your immunity deal, and we'll do whatever we can for Roman. Okay?"

Unable to stop himself now, he pulled her into his arms. Jane melted against him like she belonged there. She always had, and at first he'd attributed it to her being Taylor Shaw, but now he no longer had that reasoning to cling to. It was just because she was her, and he was him, and they fit together like he had with no one else in his life.

After a couple of shaky, emotional breaths, Jane said, "And you're gonna have an amazing future with your kid, and not die of a punctured lung because you didn't go to medical. Let's not forget that."

He laughed, tightening his arms around her, ignoring the protest of his bruises. Even in the midst of her own distress, she was still worrying about him. "I'll drink to that. Or I will, once I'm done hugging you."

"Don't worry, I won't keep you from your beer." Jane sat back, ending their embrace, and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here to make this all about me. You have enough to worry about, from all sides."

"I'm always gonna worry about you, Jane. Whether or not you tell me your problems. So you might as well get used to telling me when you need to talk."

She smiled, the expression understated, but so warm and filled with affection that he caught his breath. "And that goes for you, too." She gestured towards his bottle. "Come on, you better get drinking. We still have one more each before I head home."

He grinned and picked up his beer again. "Yes, ma'am."

Jane's gaze fell on the box of files on the nearby table. "You bringing your work home with you?"

"Going over that NSA file that Nas has on me," he explained, resisting the urge to scowl at the stuff he'd already spent hours obsessing over, with no result. "It's mostly intel from her Sandstorm informant."

Jane looked from him to the file and back. "Well, do you want some help?"

"You're welcome to." Kurt shrugged, glad to get back on less intense ground with her. It wasn't that spending time with her was hard—it was far, far too easy—but it was getting more and more difficult to deny how important she was to him. One of these days, he was going to have to stop and properly confront his own feelings, but not today.

Especially not when Jane found a picture of Shepherd in his military academy yearbook, and a whole new dimension of the Sandstorm case opened up.

_END._


	3. Kiss It Better (Jeller, 2x12, M-rated)

**Kiss It Better**

Jeller, 2x12 - offshoot fic from Waiting to Land, so there are a couple of paragraphs that are the same towards the beginning of each, but I go in a different (smutty) direction from there.

* * *

Once they both had beers, they sat down on the couch. Kurt had been listening to a playlist before Jane's knock on the door, but had turned it down a little to answer, and the music was still playing softly. It filled the silence as they got comfortable on opposite ends of the couch.

"I'm so sorry about Allie," Jane said, her eyes sympathetic.

"Thank you."

If it had been someone else, he might have chafed at the perceived pity. With Jane, though, it had never felt like that. Maybe because she always had so much shit going on in her own life, yet she could always put it aside for a friend in need.

She took a sip of her beer. "Do you want to talk about it, or would distraction be better?"

"If I think about it for much longer, my head's gonna explode, so if you don't mind, I'm gonna go with option B."

With a rueful smile, Jane nodded. "I know what you mean. Distraction it is. So, come on—tell me what, exactly, is so great about baseball? Because I watched like twenty minutes of a game once, and I fell asleep."

Her obvious attempt to draw him into debate about a sport he loved made him want to wrap his arms around her and hold on tight. Instead, he grinned and put his feet up on the coffee table. "Well, first up, you must have been watching a bad game…"

They were halfway through their second beer each, keeping the conversation away from both Sandstorm and impending parenthood, when they both fell silent for a few seconds. Jane looked around. "This is the first time I've seen your apartment so empty. Last time, it was full of people here for the baby shower, and before that, Sawyer was always here—sometimes Sarah, too."

She hadn't mentioned his father, but he shoved that thought way towards the back of his mind, refusing to let thoughts of that bastard ruin a pleasant evening. "Yeah, it's just us tonight."

Jane brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, looking down at her drink with a sad smile, just as he remembered the significance attached to that phrasing.

_I wanted a moment that was just…us._

He hadn't let himself think of that night in months, doing anything and everything he could to distract himself from the memory whenever it came up. Now that Jane was here, alone with him in his apartment, it would be a bad idea to let it resurface. Even if there hadn't been too much baggage between them back then, there sure as hell would be now.

He reached for the first thing he could think of to change the subject, painfully aware that now they were both thinking about their first kiss.

"So, you decided not to stick with your Remi look?"

Jane shifted in her seat, embracing the new topic with a quiet laugh. "I know I wear a lot of black, but that lipstick was taking it a little too far. Why, d'you think I should have stuck with it?" she asked wryly.

Kurt had trouble not staring at her lips at the best of times, and having them so starkly accentuated had been hell. Maybe Nas had broken up with him because she could tell how often his attention had strayed today, to thoughts of Jane's dark-lipsticked lips against various parts of his body. He didn't think he'd been obvious, but…

"I think you should look however you want to look. You don't get to make enough choices in your life, so…"

Nodding, Jane looked down at her inked hand. "I guess the rock chick image went well with the tattoos, but I think people stare at my ink enough, without dramatic makeup adding to the effect." She shrugged. "It was fun to ride a motorcycle again, though. Last time I did that was when we were chasing after that fleeing suspect in David's murder case."

Kurt pulled his mind out of the gutter. _Bikes, Weller. Think about bikes. _"I got to chase a counterfeiter on one—right before Nas made contact about your escape from the CIA, actually. One of these days I'd like to go on a bike ride in my own time, without a case to distract me."

Jane nodded. "If you want company on that hypothetical bike ride, count me in."

He smiled, imagining the two of them racing their bikes down country backroads somewhere upstate. _Or sharing a bike, her arms around your waist as you ride into the sunset._ "Remind me, when all this is over."

"'When all this is over'—I can't even imagine what that will be like. When a case doesn't originate from one of my tattoos, or from something Shepherd is doing…"

"One day. We'll get there. And when we do, this whole thing will hardly seem like it was real."

"Cheers to that," Jane said, starting to raise her bottle, but then shook it. "Except that my beer is gone."

"Wanna finish the six-pack before we say goodnight?"

"Sure. I think I'm converted to Pennsylvania Beer." Jane handed him her empty bottle.

"Everyone should be." Kurt levered himself to his feet, involuntary grunting with pain as his bruised chest protested.

"Did you get checked out by medical after what happened today?" Jane asked, concern in her voice.

"What's to check? I was wearing a vest. I'm just a little bruised." He set down the empty bottles on the counter, then popped the caps on the remaining two.

"Yeah, unless the impact fractured a rib. And that didn't sound like you were reacting to a 'little' bruise." Exasperated, she got up and joined him at the counter. "Come on, let me check you out."

He handed her a beer, hoping she'd take the hint that he'd rather sit back down and drink. Jane immediately put it on the counter, scowling. "Kurt."

"I'm fine, Jane. Really."

"Then you won't mind proving it. Take your shirt off."

_Ahhhh, fuck._

Kurt hesitated. On the one hand, Jane wasn't going to back down—she blamed herself for not coming up with a better solution than letting him get shot in the vest, and her guilt was making her stubborn.

On the other hand…he didn't know whether he had enough self-control to withstand this examination without kissing her. And he wasn't sure if he cared.

He began to lift his hand towards his shirt buttons, just as she turned away. "If you won't let me look, at least get medical to check it tomorrow."

He should have been relieved that she was backing down, but now he was feeling deprived of her hands on his skin, and that disappointment made him perverse. "If I get time. I have a ton of meetings in the morning, and then who knows what Patterson will find?"

She shot him another disapproving look, and he smothered a grin.

"I'm gonna send Dr. Finnigan down to interrupt one of your meetings if you don't let me do it now," Jane threatened mildly, stepping back. "Think about that while I'm in the bathroom."

She turned and headed down the hall, leaving him alone with his dilemma.

Kurt leaned against the counter, taking a long drink from his beer bottle. Willing his conflicted thoughts and emotions to settle down enough that he could think.

_Two options, Weller. Either you sit back down on the couch, come up with some kind of change of subject for when Jane gets back, and let this play out the way it has been for months already…_

_Or you let her examine you. Let her put her hands on you. Let her breathe close to your skin, and completely lose the ability to hide what you've known the whole time you've been dating Nas._

_It's only ever been Jane for you, since the moment you first put your arms around her. And you know she still feels something, too. All those little touches, glances, hugs—even when you were so mad at her that you could barely look in her direction, you were still orbiting each other, still searching for ways to make it hurt less. You still wanted her, and you still _want_ her, right now. And after everything that's happened, she'll never make the first move again._

_Are you man enough to stop pretending she's not the centre of your entire world? Or are you gonna sit back down, drink some more, and watch her walk out of here so you can jerk off, alone, and pretend you're not thinking about her?_

He drummed his fingers on the countertop, paralysed by indecision. Could this even work—him and Jane? Long term? Would they ruin a perfectly good friendship by acting on their instincts?

It was optimistic to even think about the long term. Jane might not even survive Phase Two. Nothing mattered more to her than protecting them all from the threat her family posed—look at the way she'd ditched her comms and run off when Cade had tried to kill her, and that had been before she'd known what was going on with Shepherd. No matter what he said or did to try to stop her, she might sprint headfirst into danger, sacrifice herself to stop her twisted mother—and what would he do then, besides curl up with his grief and his regrets? Regrets that he couldn't protect her, and that he'd never told her how much he—

"Hey. You okay?"

He pushed himself upright again, trying to internalise his flinch at the pain. "Sorry. Got to thinking about everything again."

She'd draw her own conclusions from that, that he meant Allie's relocation and Shepherd's plans. Unless he led her down the path that led her to them. _Just_ them.

"Sorry about that. Your distraction kinda needed to use the bathroom." She reached for her abandoned beer. "But I'm back now, and ready to keep giving you a hard time about your health, if that helps."

He smiled, knowing he was letting too much of his affection for her show in the expression, but hardly caring. "You don't give up, do you?"

"Guess I don't," she said, echoing the last time he'd said that to her. "At least, not when something matters. Like, you know, you dying of a punctured lung."

"You're exaggerating." But he felt his resolve to remain at a distance slipping away by the moment. Maybe this struggle was all over the moment he imagined her putting her hands on his naked chest.

Jane rolled her eyes, taking a quick sip of beer before she answered. "Uh, no. Just because a scenario is statistically less likely to happen than the other outcome, that doesn't mean it's not plausible."

Kurt sighed, flicking open the topmost button on his shirt and trying to look as though it was under duress. "Fine. You're right. You should probably take a look now, to save me from falling behind on all the meetings I have in the morning."

Jane's eyes widened a little, and she paused for an instant before she put down her drink. "You're actually caving in? What did you do with the real Weller while I was gone?"

Wondering if her thoughts were as much a conflicted turmoil as his had been, Kurt shifted his weight, keeping his hand above the next button that needed to be undone. "Changed your mind?"

She responded instantly to the challenge, taking a step nearer. The look in her eyes was determined now—determined to get through this without letting him see how much she felt for him? Or just determined to check on his wellbeing? "I'm just surprised. But come on, let's do this."

He finished unbuttoning his shirt and let the fabric part, baring his chest. Jane immediately sucked in a breath, sympathy overtaking everything else. "God, that's worse than I expected."

_Just what every guy wants to hear when he takes off his shirt._ Kurt shrugged out of the sleeves with a wince, and by the time he'd draped the shirt over a chair, Jane was standing close by, her eyes on his dark bruises.

"Okay. I'm assuming you've gone through all this before," she said, hesitating with her hands only a millimetre away from his chest.

He looked down into her eyes and knew he was already doomed. "Yeah."

Gently, she placed both hands flat against his pectoral muscles, her thumbs touching at an angle to make a 'W' shape across his chest. Kurt couldn't help but flinch at the contact, and Jane hesitated, looking up with concern. "That hurt?"

"Only a little. But your hands are cold," he teased.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Sorry. They'll warm up. Now, take a deep breath."

Kurt complied, wondering if she could tell his heart was racing.

"Okay, breathe out."

He did, and she positioned her hands farther down his ribs, repeating her orders. After that, she gently felt along each one of his ribs, cautioning him to tell her if the pain worsened. She had an excuse to avoid his eyes, so he couldn't tell what was going through her mind, and it was killing him not to know if this moment was as sexually charged for her.

Aside from the fact that she was pressing down on his bruises, he didn't feel any increased pain, and as she got farther down his ribcage, past the worst of the injury, he couldn't help but enjoy her attention, and the focused expression on her face.

"Is your back in any pain?" she asked, curling her fingers around his side as she paused, waiting for the answer.

He didn't answer, and as she looked up to see why, he caught sight of the attraction she was trying to hide. His own desire flared in response, and he swallowed hard, trying to rein himself in. He'd known he'd be walking on thin ice if he let her do this, but he hadn't realised just how much he'd been in denial about his feelings until now.

"Kurt?" she murmured, prompting him for an answer.

"No. No back pain." _Getting a little uncomfortable further down, though._

She was avoiding his eyes again, her casual air a little forced. "In that case, you're probably just bruised. Which means all you can really do is wait." She let her hands fall to her sides, beginning to step back. "And get Nas to kiss it better."

That she'd mentioned Nas meant she was trying to push him away, remind him that things were different now. She was feeling just as drawn towards a collision as he was; he could feel the tension between them rising.

"That won't be happening," he told her.

Jane turned back, an unspoken question on her face.

"She ended things. Earlier today."

Consternation flashed through her expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." He wanted to laugh at just how fine it was. "My ego is a little bruised, but my chest feels worse."

Her gaze drifted down to his bruises, then back up to his face as he closed the distance she'd put between them.

Jane closed her eyes as he slid his hands over her hips. "Kurt… I don't want to be your rebound."

Did she really think she could mean so little to him?

"You're not," he said. "Nas was…a convenient way for me to tell myself I was over you. You came back, and my mind was all messed up. But I think now, it's clear."

Jane stared up at him, startled, uncomprehending. She'd really had no idea that he wasn't over her? Or hadn't she dared to believe?

He reached for her hand, pressed it back against his chest, knowing she'd remember the first time he'd done this, to calm her out of a panic attack. And the way she'd copied the move in reverse later, letting him feel the beat of her heart as she'd whispered something that had turned his life upside down_. You're my starting point._

Jane's eyes were closed now, her brow furrowed. "Every time we do this, something comes between us."

He cupped her face in his hand, willing her to open her eyes again, to see the truth in his. "I know we've screwed this up before. But this thing between us…no matter how much I try to move on, it's always right there. It feels…" The word eluded him, right when he needed it most.

Jane immediately raised her chin, looking up at him with such need that his thoughts stalled. "Inevitable?"

He nodded, his gaze pulled to the slight smile on her lips. _God, it's been so long since we last kissed. I just want… _He tried to correct his distraction, knowing how important this moment was.

Jane rose on her toes to meet his lips, her breath escaping in a half laugh, half sob. He crushed her to him, not caring if he hurt his chest, and his heart soared.

_Jane. _Her name, her _presence_ reverberated in his head, blanking out everything but her. He kissed her desperately, letting her taste months of pent-up hunger. Jane wrapped her arms around his neck, and he slipped his fingers beneath her shirt, stroking up her sides, exploring uncharted territory by feel alone.

Jane pulled back, and his first thought was that he was moving too fast for her. His apology died on his lips as she wriggled out of her grey shirt, her eyes meeting his again as she cast it aside. The question on her face betrayed how vulnerable she was feeling—as if she expected him to turn down her advance.

He wanted to kiss every inch of the skin she'd just revealed, but Jane wasn't exactly the patient type, and right now the need burning through her clearly equalled his. That could come later, once she was sleepy and satisfied, and he could examine every tattoo he wanted to with his fingers and lips.

He lifted her onto the breakfast bar, and now it was Jane who had to duck her head to kiss him, while he tugged her sports bra up, freeing her breasts. While he tried not to stare at her beautiful body like a virgin teenager, she took over, pulling the fitted garment the rest of the way off, then wrapped her legs around his waist as their lips collided again.

Kurt kissed her throat, her collarbones, down her sternum and over to one of her breasts, cupping the modest curve of the other in his hand as he licked and nuzzled her nipple. Jane gave a soft moan, running her fingers over his scalp in a silent plea for him not to stop, and he felt like the luckiest man who'd ever lived just to hear her breathing hitch, to feel her nipple harden in his mouth.

A million endearments ran through his mind, his lips too busy bringing her pleasure to form any of them. He nipped her skin between his teeth, watching her to gauge her reaction, needing to know how sensitive she was, if he could get a little rough without bringing her out of the mood. Jane bit her lip and arched closer, giving no sign of discomfort or boredom. Reassured that what he was doing was working for her, he switched breasts, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the one he was abandoning.

_Fuck, is this really happening? Did she really just moan my name?_

As his brain struggled to catch up with his body, Jane reached down and popped the button on her jeans. The silent suggestion snapped him out of his lustful daze, and he growled against her skin, tugging down her zipper before she could get there, then pressing his knuckles against the seam further down, where he approximated her clit to be. Jane shifted her hips, nudging him on target, and sucked in a shaky breath.

He wanted to hear more—every tiny sound he could wring out of her as he spread her legs and devoured her. Finding out how she sounded as she climaxed would be the most intriguing investigation he'd ever conducted, and she was clearly impatient, rolling her hips forward against his touch, seeking every sensation he could give her.

He trailed his kisses back up to her lips, amused by how urgently she pressed her mouth to his, then drew back, sliding his hands to her waistband. "Help me get these off?"

Jane leaned backwards on her hands and lifted her ass off the counter. "Your move."

Kurt gazed at her—a picture of lust, her lips swollen from his kisses, her nipples as hard as her abdominal muscles as she held herself ready for him to strip her bare. _Is this even real? _"You want to keep your underwear, or lose it all?"

She raised an eyebrow, and the playful glint in her eyes made his heart skip. "Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

"Just checking my boundaries." He kissed her just below her belly button, then lower, teasing all the way down her underwear to where her zipper ended and her jeans impeded his progress. "You _sure_ you want me to take these off?"

Jane was breathing fast, looking so damn turned on that his cock pulsed with longing. "After we've waited all this time, you're gonna tease me now?"

Kurt grinned. She had no idea how much teasing she was in for with him—but not their first time. At least, not too much.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and tugged her pants down over her hips, stopping when he got to the top of her thighs. Jane lowered her bare ass down to the counter, then straightened her legs, and he stepped back, pulling from her ankles to draw her clothing down and off.

_Oh, fuck._

He'd seen her naked body in the images Patterson had scanned. Only three small, blurry squares over her nipples and at the apex of her thighs had impeded his view, and he'd privately appreciated her body—of course he had. But this was so much different. Not because those blurry squares had done much for her modesty, but because she was right here with him, watching him, self-consciousness edging into the desire on her face.

She had scars, too—old ones that had been visible in the scans, and newer ones. He could remember how she'd gotten some of them: the gunshot wound Tasha had given her earlier this year, and the shot she'd taken to the arm from Chao, during the first case they'd worked. Others, he strongly suspected were the work of the CIA, but he couldn't think of that right now, not in the sanctity of this moment.

He let her clothing drop to the ground and stepped between her legs again, drawing her tightly against his body and giving her a hot, needy kiss. "You are so goddamn beautiful," he told her, his voice unexpectedly fierce. "Tattoos or no tattoos; scars or no scars. God, Jane, I want you."

She kissed him with just as much hunger, taking his hand and guiding it between her legs. The heat and slickness he found there sent a powerful surge of want through him, physical desire obliterating his need to let her know how strong his emotions were.

She parted her legs in response to his touch, and he couldn't resist any more. He began to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her body, and Jane pushed the top of his head when he would have lingered and taken his time. Her patience was clearly at its limit, and as much as he wanted to tease, it could wait.

Coaxing Jane to rest her leg on his shoulder, he dipped his head down between her legs and tasted her, parting her labia first with his tongue, then keeping them apart with his fingers.

Jane leaned back on her hands, her head tipping back as she sighed his name. God, she was even wetter than he'd hoped, but he held back, not stroking into her with his fingers yet. Her clit was easy to find, and a ripple went through her thighs as he gently licked over it, then around the edges, above and below, gauging Jane's response.

She gasped, her muscles tensing, and he attempted to recreate what had elicited that reaction, needing to put her on the path to as much pleasure as he could possibly give her. When she moaned softly, trying to press against his tongue, he knew he had it, repeating the motion a few times and enjoying how she quivered in response.

And then he lifted his head, giving her thigh a quick nuzzle on the way.

Jane opened her eyes, aroused frustration and confusion in her eyes. "What—?"

Kurt gave her a quick kiss, cutting off her words, then lifted her off the breakfast bar. "Don't worry. I'm nowhere near done."

"Good, because neither am I," she grumbled good-naturedly, and he laughed, setting her down on the end of the counter, at a ninety degree angle to the way she'd been facing before.

He grabbed a folded blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over the long stretch of surface behind Jane. "Lie back."

She tentatively leaned back on her hands, then her elbows. Kurt put a throw cushion from the couch under her head, then guided her the rest of the way down, cupping her mound as he kissed her. Jane tilted into his touch, less impatient now, and he let her rub against his fingers for a minute, ignoring the way his cock demanded attention. She was worth the wait.

_Fuck, if she keeps moaning like this, I'll wait forever._

When he drew away, Jane made a soft noise in protest, but he didn't keep her waiting for long, returning to the end of the counter and standing between her legs again. "You good?"

"I will be, if you—" Jane's words sheared off with a gasp as he settled back in to drive her crazy.

Her gasps became moans and soft, murmured instructions, which he followed to the letter. When he teased her entrance with his fingers, she pleaded for more, her husky voice the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. And when he licked her just right, the way she rippled around his fingers made his imagination skip ahead, anticipation filling his mind.

He lost track of time, stroking her sweet spot from within, using his tongue to stimulate her until she was grinding against his mouth, unthinking, heedless of everything but her impending orgasm. Exactly how he wanted her.

When she trembled and came, crying out sharply with the first pulse of her orgasm against his fingers, Kurt wanted to laugh at how relieved he felt. He hadn't left a sexual partner unsatisfied in over a decade—unless they'd been very, _very_ good at faking—but he'd still been afraid he would let Jane down.

But now he had her where he needed her, and as she began to catch her breath after her first climax, he attempted to pick up the thread of her pleasure again, determined to give her as much as she could take.

He wasn't sure how many times Jane came before he finally relented, but he was confident it was at least four. Kurt kissed up her thigh and over to one of her hips, drinking in her exhausted disarray. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her inked skin, and her chest rose and fell with each panting breath she took. _So fucking beautiful._

Jane watched him come around the edge of the breakfast bar, her expression lazy and satisfied. The moment he came within touching distance, she reached for him. Kurt laced his fingers through hers, smiling down at her.

"All that, and you're still wearing pants?" she teased.

"I was busy," he told her, leaning over to brush a kiss over her forehead.

"Yeah, no kidding." Laughing, she rose up on her elbows, then sat all the way up. "Just give me a second to recover, and I can show my appreciation properly."

He supported her as she slid off the counter and took a step, his ego boosted by the way her legs trembled. Then he scooped her up as though he were carrying her over the threshold as a new bride, grinning as she clutched at his shoulder, caught off guard. His bruises ignited with pain, but it didn't matter.

"Kurt! I can walk!"

"Let me take care of you, just this once."

Jane gave a sigh he suspected was mainly for show, then relaxed into his arms, allowing him to carry her through to the bedroom.

Kurt carefully laid her down on the bed, and she pulled him down on top of her, lifting her head for a kiss that was at once demanding and sweet. Would he ever get over how right it felt to have her reach for him like this, without hesitation or thought?

A little overwhelmed by their connection, he rolled to one side to avoid crushing her. As he settled back down, Jane brushed her fingers over his bruises, careful not to aggravate them.

"I think the medic who checked me out recommended kisses for those," he murmured.

"Most important part of the treatment." Jane kissed one of his bruises, then the other, her lips lingering, gentle. When she looked back up into his face, the amusement had faded from her eyes. "I was so afraid for you today. I don't know how I held it together for the rest of the mission."

Kurt shook his head. "Jane, I'm fine."

She gazed at him for a long moment, then nodded, leaning in to kiss his lips. He drew her close, seeking only to reassure her, but when she slid her hand down his abs to the front of his pants, his focus abruptly snapped back to his neglected arousal.

He whispered her name as she deftly unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans, and then her hand was dipping below the waistband of his underwear, cool in contrast to his hot, rock-solid shaft as she stroked her way up.

"Something else that needs kissing better?" she murmured against his neck, and his lust surged at the mental image.

Somehow, he managed to hold onto his composure as she helped him strip off his pants the way he had hers—but if he watched her suck his cock, he would never hold it together for long enough to be inside her, and he wanted that more than anything right now. He caught her hand as she reached for his shaft, pulling her up and over him for a brief, emphatic kiss.

"I want to get as close to you as I can," he murmured.

Jane nodded, rolling them over so that he covered her. "Me, too."

For a couple of minutes, they just made out, grinding against each other, enjoying the rising tension until Kurt's resolve finally crumbled.

"Condoms in the top drawer," he told her, in between kisses.

She smiled. "Or not. I'm on the pill, so…"

When she reached down to his cock, priming him to thrust into her for the first time, Kurt looked into her face, searching for fears or doubts in her eyes. All he found was a reflection of his own feelings: frustrated desire, and—

Analysis of his emotions could wait. Slowly, he drove inside Jane, controlling himself past the urge to just slam into her. She closed her eyes with a soft cry, tilting her hips to take him deeper.

He drew back a little, gave one more careful thrust until he was completely inside, his heart pounding against Jane's chest, her arms and legs wrapped around him as she opened her eyes to look into his.

"I've been thinking about this since…" She trailed off, took a shaky breath, then whispered, "You're my starting point, Kurt."

"And you're mine," he told her, not stopping to think whether he meant she was his starting point or just _his._

Jane nodded, not questioning it either, seeming connected to him in mind as well as body. "Take me?"

He was already moving, bracing his weight on his forearms and drawing his hips back for another deep, steady thrust. Just feeling her around his cock, letting her feel him within her. Adjusting and trying not to let his need overtake him before he was ready.

Jane fell into his rhythm, her feet braced against the bed, driving up her hips to meet every one of his thrusts. Fuck, he wouldn't last long at this rate. He tried to focus past the need dictating his every movement, shifting his angle a little, hoping to find the right spot to bring Jane along with him.

She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders, her voice a breathless murmur. "Like that, but faster."

He couldn't have kept himself from speeding up if he'd tried. Urgency coursing through his body, he slammed into her, rewarded by the way she grew tense and desperate beneath him, seeking a final push over the edge that he was only too happy to give her.

"Kurt!" she called out, raking her fingernails down his back. Her climax squeezed him so tightly that he cursed under his breath, knowing his endurance was nearing its limit.

Finally allowing himself to lose control, he took her hard and fast, lasting only a few thrusts before the intense pressure building within him released in hot pulses of pure ecstasy. _Jane…oh god, Jane…_

As the aftershocks of his climax faded enough to let him think again, he rolled over onto his side, Jane still in his arms. She immediately leaned in to give him a breathless kiss, lingering for a few seconds, then withdrawing to let them both catch their breath.

Kurt opened his eyes and found himself captivated by Jane's gaze. She was barely smiling, but happiness radiated from her nonetheless, and his own heart had never felt so light.

She reached up to stroke his jaw, and he realised he was smiling right back at her.

"So," Jane murmured, breaking the silence. "Do you mind if I stay the night?"

The idea of her leaving was so ludicrous that he tightened his arms around her immediately. "Just try and get away."

Jane's smile grew mischievous. "Well, that's a fun _idea_, but I think we should leave it for when we're a little less tired."

_Oh, fuck…_ Now his mind was full of images he was far too spent to react to, and he leaned in to kiss her again, unable to help himself.

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" he asked.

Jane didn't open her eyes, but her expression grew wry. "Do you actually want me to start listing reasons? Because that would be kind of a downer…"

"No." He traced her bird tattoo with one finger, wondering if he'd ever felt so content before. "I just…want to stay in this moment for a while."

She did open her eyes then, the uncharacteristic statement surprising her. "Then I'm staying in it with you," she said softly, resting her hand on top of his.

If he'd been a better man, he could have put words to the emotions raging through him. But he was still just Kurt Weller, and some things were too important to risk giving voice to. At least, for now.


End file.
